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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726117">Pretentious Asshole</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbaraKaterina/pseuds/BarbaraKaterina'>BarbaraKaterina</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FrostIron Bingo '19 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, FrostIron Bingo 2019, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:29:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbaraKaterina/pseuds/BarbaraKaterina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki just wants his coffee. Tony, likewise, just wants his coffee. Nevertheless, as soon as they take a proper look at each other, they want something else, too.  </p><p>(Tony still wants the coffee, though.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FrostIron Bingo '19 [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pretentious Asshole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>FrostIron Bingo square B4: coffeeshop AU</p><p>I wanted to post a new chapter of End of a Rope for Valentine's, but I came home too late to have enough time to edit, so have this ficlet that doesn't even reach the stage of romance instead. Also it's technically the 15th already where I am, but psst.</p><p>Happy Valentine's Day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tony really didn’t think about it.</p><p>He was just standing in a line in a coffee shop, as you do, half-focusing on his phone and half on the people before him to make sure he didn’t miss his turn, and when the guy before him ordered a “grande, quad, nonfat, one-pump, no-whip mocha”, he just muttered “che stronzo pretenzioso” under his breath, probably because he was just reading an email from his aunt.</p><p>The guy, however, turned around and gave him the most unimpressed look Tony had ever seen in his life.</p><p>“Do you have a problem?” He asked pointedly, his eyebrows rising.</p><p>Tony shrugged. “I mean, it does feel a little pointless to ask for non-fat and then order a mocha, but it’s your body,” and Tony, almost involuntarily, noted that it was a very nice one, in those skinny jeans and fitted green shirt, “you can put whatever you want in it.”</p><p>Maybe he had been more obvious in his appreciation than he had thought, because he could swear the guy quickly checked him out before answering snidely “well, thank you for your benevolence, I am sure,” paying for his order as he did so.</p><p>“And for you?” The barista asked Tony.</p><p>“A ristretto,” Tony told her with a quick grin.</p><p>She blinked at him for a moment, clearly expecting him to say something more, but when he didn’t, she seemed to realize that was all and logged his order.</p><p>“Ah, I see,” the mocha guy muttered.</p><p>Tony gave him a curious look, glad for this excuse to continue speaking to the hot guy. “You see what, exactly?”</p><p>“You’re a coffee purist,” the guy stated in a tone that seemed to indicate it was the worst insult he could think of.</p><p>“Well, it’s clear enough you’re not,” Tony replied diplomatically, not wanting to continue on an even worse note that he’d already started with his Italian comment. He paid for his order and turned his full attention – as much of it as there was, before coffee – to the mocha-lover.</p><p>The guy only snorted. “The real question is,” he remarked, “why on Earth does a coffee purist go to Starbucks?”</p><p>Tony grimaced just thinking about it. “My coffee machine broke,” he fairly wailed.</p><p>The guy’s expression instantly turned more sympathetic – and also more curious. “You have your own espresso machine at home?”</p><p>“Yes! And it’s perfect, too, makes coffee just right. I can’t live without it.”</p><p>The guy rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic-”</p><p>But at that moment, they were both handed their drinks.</p><p>The guy got his large cup with the deadly dose of caffeine he had asked for, and Tony…</p><p>Tony gave the entirely too big paper cup a disgusted look and he took his first sip. “I can’t live without it,” he repeated emphatically, shooting the drink a very disapproving look. “I can’t survive on...this.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t have gone to Starbucks to order a ristretto,” the guy pointed out, quite reasonably.</p><p>Tony scowled at him. “I couldn’t have walked all the way to Little Italy for a proper coffee,” he pointed out. “I need caffeine to function. I’d have been run over five times before I got there.”</p><p>He took another sip, and grimaced.</p><p>The guy gave a heavy sigh. “Do you want a chaperone?” He asked.</p><p>Tony blinked at him, completely confused. “What?”</p><p>“A chaperone,” the guy repeated, sounding long-suffering. “To make sure you reach the closest Italian cafe safely. I’ve already had my necessary dose of caffeine,” he raised his cup, “and something tells me forcing you to finish that drink would be tantamount of torture, so...”</p><p>Tony’s brain <i>was</i> still working pretty slowly, but even in its sluggish state he managed to realize this was a chance he couldn’t pass up.</p><p>“To Ferrara, then,” he said, instantly feeling more alive as he smiled at his benefactor and opened the door for him. He was rewarded with a smirk he immediately determined he needed to see again as soon as possible, as well as a maybe accidental but probably not brush of his side, which woke him up some more even without coffee.</p><p>“So, what are your plans after you see me safely to my haven?” He asked to make sure they were both on the same page as they passed into the street.</p><p>“Hmm. That rather depends.”</p><p>“On what?”</p><p>“On you,” the guy said in a tone that clearly indicated it should have been obvious – which, fair enough.</p><p>“Good answer,” Tony approved. “My name is Tony, by the way,” he added. “May I know who you are, O my savior?”</p><p>“Sono Loki,” the guy replied with that amazing smirk once more, “e sono, in effetti, un po’ uno stronzo pretenzioso.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*”I’m Loki and I am, in fact, a bit of a pretentious asshole.”</p><p>The idea – that didn’t fit into the story – is that Loki knows Italian because he loves opera...because, yes, he’s a bit of a pretentious asshole. And also he’s just made for opera.</p><p>Also I don’t drink coffee, so I had to Google Loki’s order...by googling the most ridiculous Starbucks orders ever.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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